Mikida ABC's
by melti
Summary: A series of oneshots featuring Mikado and Masaomi, with prompts from each letter of the alphabet. Be it best friends or boyfriends, enemies or rivals, strangers or family, girlfriends or penpals - it's more of a fatal tie, really.  Canon and AU
1. Index

**Hello! Welcome to Kiado/Mikida ABC's! **

This is the introduction post, as well as an index to all these one-shots I will be writing. That way, you can skip to whatever one-shot that you want to read, without skimming each and every chapter to find that one (or more) you might have liked.

**Disclaimer: **This fan fiction is merely for entertainment purposes, not to make money or to take credit and all that jazz. Durarara!, in all its shapes and forms, belongs to the ever-so-clever, Narita Ryogo, and to its respective companies and affiliations. Not me. At all.

**Author's Note: **Writing is my stress outlet. I write mainly for fun, to get rid of plot bunnies, to watch my writing improve and to feel good at the end of every completed project. Also, I only have time to write late at night or when I'm particularly bored on vacation, so I apologize in advance if I do not update quick enough. As many writers say, the RL simply is hectic sometimes!

Hopefully this ABC challenge will be a sort of timeline of my writing skills. That would be pretty cool, don't you think? This collection will also be a project to feed the Masaomi/Mikado/Masaomi shipper in me, so I hope you enjoy.

Some of these one-shots I may be proud of, some maybe not. But it's all for the experience, right?

Okay, I must be boring you with my rambling. Here is the index:

* * *

><p><strong>A<strong>**narchy**

Rating: T+

Pairing: Mikado/Masaomi, Masaomi/Mikado

Characters: Mikado, Masaomi, ?

Genre: Drama, Angst

Summary: Kida Masaomi is assigned a mission to protect the son of the late Prime Minister of Japan - Ryuugamine Mikado. Meanwhile, the country is in a state of unrest and total isolation. A sort of end-of-the world scenario…maybe.

Warnings: AU, boyxboy, twisting reality, hints of boss!Kado, some possible homophobic thinking (though not really), serious!Masaomi, boys kissing each other.

* * *

><p><strong>B<strong>**lue**

Rating: T

Pairing: hints of Mikida but otherwise none.

Characters: Mikado, Masaomi, Aoba

Genre: Drama, General

Summary: Masaomi returns to Ikebukuro only to witness a bruised Mikado involved with Blue Square.

Warnings: Novel Spoilers as of volume 4 onwards, twisting canon, AU, Kuronuma Aoba

* * *

><p><strong>C<strong>**orny:**

Other prompts: Cheesy/Corny, expanded into Christmas, cold, confession

Rating: K+

Characters/Pairing: Masaomi/Mikado

Genre: Friendship, humor, drama

Summary: Mikado, Masaomi and corny pickup lines lead to an unlikely confession in the snow.

Warnings: AU, boyxboy

* * *

><p><strong>D<strong>**istance:**

Rating: K

Characters/Pairing: Masaomi and Mikado

Genre: Friendship, fluff

Summary: Masaomi returns home from studying abroad in America. Mikado welcomes him back, noticing the changes in his best friend. But despite everything, he quickly realizes that distance can also bring them closer together.

Warnings: AU, bromance, drabble


	2. Anarchy

**Letter: **A  
><strong>Prompt: <strong>Anarchy (+ Apocalypse)  
><strong>Rating: <strong>Teen +  
><strong>Pairing: <strong>Mikado/Masaomi, Masaomi/Mikado  
><strong>Characters: <strong>Mikado, Masaomi, ?  
><strong>Genre: <strong>Drama, Angst,  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Kida Masaomi is assigned a mission to protect the son of the late Prime Minister of Japan - Ryuugamine Mikado. Meanwhile, the country is in a state of unrest and total isolation. A sort of end-of-the world scenario, but not really…Okay, that was confusing.

**Warnings**: AU, boyxboy, twisting reality, hints of boss!Kado, some possible homophobic thinking (though not really), serious!Masaomi, boys kissing each other

**A/N: **Umm, this used to be a drabble, but now it's a oneshot. I apologize if this isn't very good, for I've edited this quite a lot already, and I sort of want to move on already. OTL.

Also, because this fic website has horrible formatting, I apologize if these lines - "-" have issues. As for other stuff, I'll come back and edit in the future. I just wanna go on to B already.

* * *

><p>When his father passed away a few months ago, Ryuugamine Mikado felt utterly and completely lost.<p>

Mikado felt his world crashed down around him, like glass shattered upon the hard pavement, shards of the clear substance floating abysmally around him as if some invisible force field prevented them from flying straight at him, prevented them from cutting him open so he could bleed to death like his father did on that lazy afternoon. Mikado lived in a daze as if noticing and not noticing the glass pointed at him in accusation. Little knives were held in the cool palms of air, but he couldn't see them. He didn't _want_ to see them.

Mikado's father was the Prime Minister of Japan. His father was a good man; his father was a wonderful leader, loved by most if not all the people. His father was a loyal husband and a strong commander. His father was the best father any child could ask for. He was Mikado's idol, his role model and his inspiration.

However, with a heavy heart, Mikado soon realized that all of that - or at least most of that - was a lie, a farce, a façade formulated skillfully and manipulatively in order to hide the bitter and ugly truth:

His father was a traitor, a coward, a hypocrite and a liar.

Mikado discovered this not too long ago, the veracity of the accusation proven true when he returned home from school one day and saw the gaping wound in the man's chest. All the blood - red, red, red - continued to spill out of the corpse. It pooled thickly into dismembered shapes on the wooden floor and he remembered quite vividly that his eyes had widened, his breathing had stopped, his knees had grown weak at the sight.

Shocked and utterly terrified, the high school student crept closer to the body of his father, the man who gave him life and love. He dropped his school bag at the doorway and walked quietly to the blood, fascinated at its vibrant color staining the floor and his father's clothes. His own feet were sticky with the mess too, and they trembled with every movement, every step that brought him closer and closer to the truth.

That was when he found it. A note. A little envelope with no return address - blank except for a familiar name typed neatly on the bleach white paper. The envelope gleamed in the sunlight filtering through the open window - the billowing curtains - and it stood out plainly against the dark suit of his father. Like some heavenly message, the note _called out _to the teenager. It looked like it was glowing.

On that note, Mikado remembered, was a message that still rings loudly to this very day, and that caused his world - and the world of all of Japan - to crumble in shambles.

It was the beginning of total anarchy and chaos.

* * *

><p>Masaomi didn't know who this Ryuugamine kid was. All he figured was that his last name was pretty weird, his father was of great importance, and that Mikado himself didn't look like a leader, like someone who could represent the people and lead them in the right direction. How was this guy supposed to fix this mess? It seemed like he wasn't even capable of running a mile without tripping on his own feet, or perhaps fainting before reaching the half-way point! It was kind of disappointing, Masaomi thought. But it was something he'd have to deal with, for his sake and for the sake of the people.<p>

No one told Masaomi the Prime Minister's son would be this young, this weak-looking. He'd thought the guy would be at least a couple years older, maybe nineteen or twenty, probably more fit than what he's currently seeing right now. From this angle, all the blonde could pin out in the darkened room was a thin physique, a body a few inches shorter than himself, a baby face and short dark hair. Nothing _really_ unusual for a Japanese teenager.

This was totally not his vision of a strong leader, though; the son of yet _another _strong leader: the past Prime Minister, whom Masaomi's father knew personally. It was strange how he never met Mikado before now. He wondered how life would have been if they grew up as childhood friends, maybe even best friends that caught beetles together and set them free right after observing the fascinating insects. Not strangers like now - people who had to stick together to survive. Not that Mikado knew about that yet, anyhow. But still.

If this was his mission - _"-a mission vital to the resurrection of our great country,"- _how come he wasn't given the details? Something felt off about this…

Masaomi assumed that he was assigned this job due to his advanced skill, courage and similar age to his charge. That way, a bond may form, which was probably the Organization's intention in the first place. A good bond equals a good connection. A strong connection leads to a stronger desire to live and to _not give up_, even if the pull to do so grew steadily with time. But what stood out amongst the confusion, like a red dot amongst a canvas of white, was the fact that the Organization planned to manipulate something as fragile as _friendship _to get the job done. Even though it was for the greater good, even though it's been done before, it rubbed him the wrong way. In fact, it disgusted him. It still did.

"Who _are_ you?" Masaomi asked as he dusted soot off his clothes, wiped the blood off his chin. Nothing but genuine curiosity filtered through his normally buoyant voice, and he calmly inspected Mikado through messy blonde bangs. Cautious brown eyes sought out the other's blue gaze, and in doing so, he hoped to gain some insight on the other's personality or past, maybe his strengths and weaknesses. Eyes were windows to the soul, weren't they? After all, Masaomi _was _curious; Mikado was a mystery and yet _not_ at the same time. It was downright confusing, but he wanted-No, he needed to understand, whether that be for his mission or personal reasons, he just did.

And Masaomi _did_ know who Mikado was; almost everyone in Japan did. Like any close relative of the Prime Minister, the son - the sole child - of the once-respected man was famous, his name known to both the old and young. It wasn't the celebrity kind of fame, however. Everyone just _knew of _the kid, not personally - and not for his looks, or charm or talent or anything of the sort. It was just the relation that got his name around and it was probably that same fact that put pressure on Mikado to look good in the eyes of the public. Good school, good grades, good _connections_.

Mikado twitched a bit at the sudden question and turned around before plastering on a large smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Masaomi then realized this guy looked really young, like a child, and that his blue eyes displayed an uncanny maturity in a boy who seemed to have grown up way too fast to be normal. After noticing that, Masaomi wondered how his next months, maybe years, might play out. Ryuugamine Mikado might have more issues than he'd originally thought.

"Yes? How may I help you?" the dark-haired teen asked politely, succinctly as if he were talking to a coworker in some blue-collar business office. He sounded so professional, not to mention tired and stressed, like a heavy burden was weighing down on his narrow shoulders.

Masaomi looked a little away, perturbed as the screams and yells of citizens rang loudly in the abandoned room they were hiding in. An explosion shook the wooden door at its corner and he resisted the urge to look out the cracked window of the decrepit building.

"I'm Kida Masaomi. Sixteen years old and your new bodyguard. I was assigned this job not too long ago by someone who cannot be named at the moment." Masaomi paused, hesitated. "-but that's not the point, really. I'm here to protect you." He smiled to ease the (possible) awkwardness this piece of information may produce between the two of them.

The blonde expected the other boy to be surprised or at least display some outlandish reaction to the confession. Instead, Mikado was indifferent. Masaomi was genuinely surprised by that fact, though he really shouldn't have been. Bodyguards were a norm for important people like him, weren't they?

"Yes. I figured as much. Thank you very much for your help. I could have died out there!"

Mikado smiled again, his blue eyes more vibrant than before. Without knowing it, Masaomi returned the expression, which had surprised him for just a moment. For some unfathomable reason, Mikado's relief was infectious, his gratefulness heart-warming. The dark-haired teen knew how to affect another person, that's for sure.

Masaomi then took note of the bandages and bruises, the blood, dirt and scratches littered on both himself and the other teen. The gun in his hold felt heavy yet comfortable at the same time, and the very limited light reflecting cleanly off of Mikado's expensive-looking watch was particularly eye-catching. Brown eyes trained on the piece of jewelry, Masaomi noticed that the designer watch was broken. It was probably a prized possession, judging by how careful Mikado was handling it.

In response to the blonde's piercing stare, Mikado covered the face of the watch by pulling his uniform jacket sleeve down over it. The cloth was dark in color, contrasting sharply with his pale skin and bright silver, the movement not going unheeded by one curious Kida Masaomi, who made sure to file that bit of info in the back of his mind for later analysis. Now, he just watched the teen - all parts of him: silver watch, young face, thin body, steady breathing - but he tried not to make it too obvious. It was natural to suspect the other, strangers especially, so he guessed Mikado suspected him as much if not more than how much he suspected Mikado, Organization and titles be damned.

The Prime Minister's son averted his gaze to the window where people were frantically running around like it was the end of the world-and it _was_ for some, if not most Japanese people. His blue eyes grew stormy as he observed a car explode, as he witnessed a little girl burning on the street while crying out for her mother. _"Mama! Mama! It hurts!" _

Mikado's face was neutral, but his eyes betrayed the warring emotions: guilt, despair, helplessness. Anger.

"Sorry." Masaomi shrugged, as he looked away from the treasured piece of silver and followed his companion's gaze. "That's a nice watch you have there."

"Yeah. Thanks."

The atmosphere turned cold.

* * *

><p>A few months passed and chaos still reigned in Japan. In response to the assassination and scattered government, the people who had lost hope became desperate, either reaching out to foreigners for help or shunning them away in accusation or fear . Some of the more zealot citizens went as far as to commit suicide and in some of the most gruesome methods possible.<p>

Despite all that, despite all the violence and death, Mikado and Masaomi became the closest of friends. What they lacked they found in each other: when Mikado fell, Masaomi was there to help him up; when Masaomi felt alone, Mikado would tell him a fond memory. Sometimes, Mikado would just hold Masaomi, or Masaomi would just hold Mikado. They'd hold each other-two young, lost teenagers in a war that no one knew why or how it started.

During all of this, Masaomi often wondered, _"Aren't I supposed to be the strong one, the bodyguard?" _And with that, he regretted underestimating the shorter teen all those months ago. Mikado was strong in his own way, a fact he shouldn't have overlooked. The dark-haired teen was intelligent, possessed great instinct (which saved their lives on more than one occasion), was calculating and most of all, was caring and selfless. All put together and wrapped in this childish looking teen, Mikado was like an expensive package wrapped in cheap newspaper, vulnerable to tear and wear by the slightest of factors, but underneath it lay a hard shell that Masaomi felt that even he couldn't penetrate. What-or better yet, _who_ was underneath all that covering?

Masaomi thought he should've learned his lesson by now. After all, _he_ of all people should know not to judge a book by its cover…

Mikado had the answers though, or at least some of them. He had the information and the connections. He had an inkling as to how this all started, but not wanting to break this friendship, Masaomi ignored it. He wanted to live in ignorance even though instinct told him countless times that the boy he was supposed to protect might not be the leader the people needed. For some reason, Mikado felt…wrong. Like he was hiding some part of himself. This whole mission felt wrong.

Kida Masaomi couldn't comprehend it. He couldn't comprehend the dark haired teen's nightmares and thrashing, the suspicions that arose whenever he remembered all the little things that occurred during their time together. The watch incident from a few months back, some slip-up about a mysterious note, Mikado's chilling expressions on his face when he thought he was alone…

They'd ran through streets, dodged bullets, bled together and managed to stay alive. They'd stolen and eaten, cried and laughed together as if they've been friends their whole lives, and still. Not a trace, not the barest of clues as to what really happened on that fateful afternoon, that catalytic gunshot.

The only clue Masaomi had to understand - all he wanted was to understand!- was the boy he sworn to protect, the boy sitting not two feet away from him.

Ryuugamine Mikado, himself, was the clue.

* * *

><p>About a year had passed and it was now Mikado's seventeenth birthday. A lot had happened over the course of the months to both the country and the people. The streets were filthy, windows were shattered, cars set aflame. Gray was the only color that blanketed the barren land, broken buildings and empty sky, save for the bright orange fire and the torrents of black smoke that wafted up to the heavens, dark shadows, which slinked slowly across the sky to engulf the sun and the clouds.<p>

No more people ran around on the streets, shouting nonsense and blaming the government, the people, religions, wars - whatever disillusioned people came up with on their spare time. Japan was in total isolation, shrouded in its own internal chaos. The only movement one would see was paper flying around, a dog digging through garbage for anything edible, maybe a few people sifting through miscellaneous debris and whispering so low they seemed like characters in a silent film. They, too, were gray, but Mikado preferred the word Colorless.

Mikado was now seventeen years old and had never went on a date or kissed anyone before in his life, though he didn't seem to really care for that fact one bit. He felt ten years older, though, so tired of it all that the day to celebrate his birthday felt more like a death sentence than anything else. And of course, like any best friend, Masaomi had noticed.

Kida Masaomi had opened up more to the other teen, but it felt a lot like a one-sided deal. Mikado stayed quiet nowadays, barely talking. Without making a sound or moving, the other would just sit down against the wall, lean his head against the cracked plaster and sleep or stare into nothingness. The blonde should be concerned, worried. Hell, he _was, _andquite often as of late too. So Kida Masaomi finally felt that enough was enough and finally made up his mind:

They were going to do something and it was going to be _fun._ They were _not _going to spend the Mikado's birthday just lazing around and waiting.

Waiting for what? The end of the world? There were almost no yells or screams or alarms anymore. In fact, everything was quiet, deadly quiet, like the eerie silence that followed a fatal bombing.

"Oi, Mikado. Today is your birthday! We need to celebrate!" Masaomi chimed as he plopped down next to the other teen and poked him in the cheek. Mikado tore his eyes away from the cracked open window and blinked as if he just returned from some alternate space dimension.

"Masaomi? What are you doing here?"

Masaomi feigned a hurt expression on his face before smiling, eyes warm and bright. "I'm here to make you feel happy! You're seventeen now, and actually, you look much different compared to when I first met you during that raid in Ikebukuro." He chucked. "I think it's a good change, too."

Mikado sat up straighter and peered intently at the blonde. "Really?"

Masaomi nodded vigorously. "Yeah. You're less scrawny that's for sure, and you got a little taller. Plus, you don't get so tired so easily, which is a great improvement…- no, a _major_ improvement compared to the beginning of all this." He gestured towards apocalyptic image of the window; the barren, dirty warehouse; the bandage on Mikado's arm. "I think this calls for celebration!"

Mikado blinked, eyes wide before allowing a lazy grin to curl onto his lips, a red flush to appear on his cheeks. "Thanks, Masaomi." he said quietly, and his voice was so warm and full of life - _genuine._

When Masaomi heard the words, when he saw the expression on the other's face, in the other's eyes, he could see it; the sincere gratitude of him just being there. Masaomi didn't let his pride get to him, he felt warm though, like something was fluttering in his chest. Mikado seemed to have that strong affect on him, and in the simplest of actions!

Although this was his mission to protect Mikado, Masaomi felt this was way more than that. It was his own personal mission to do so, and during the long year, he often debated about when or how this became so personal in the first place, when Mikado became such an important part of himself. The Organization was correct though; Masaomi _had_ formed a bond with Mikado, and nothing could stop or prevent them from saving each other.

"No problem, Mikado!~" he continued after a short moment.

With a large grin on his face, Masaomi moved to get up and pull Mikado so they could explore outside and perhaps find a new hiding spot; to maybe find some good food and have a proper birthday party despite the guests just being them two. It would be great to relax for a day, and to be grateful that Mikado even reached the age seventeen. A lot of people wanted him dead; the fact that he was still alive deserved something special.

But with no warning, the son of Japan's last Prime Minister kissed Masaomi on the lips, his body so close and so warm it felt both surreal and familiar.

The kiss was sloppy and wet - the proper words to describe it were "nervous" and "inexperienced." A little too much tongue, too much action. Masaomi didn't expect Mikado to do that, but he responded back just as eagerly, a little laugh, a little sigh, a little hum pouring into the instigator of the kiss as he guided him in this intimate moment, that to him, came completely out of no where. Almost expertly, he played his tongue like an aged instrument, directing the warm, slick muscle in just the right places, tilting the dark head at the right angle to explore him deeper and more comfortably.

Mikado smiled against his lips and breathed as his fumbling hands sought purchase. They finally caught Masaomi's hair and almost forcefully pulled his head closer as if he wanted desperately to become one with the cheery blonde.

They pulled apart, panting into the now warm air. Words were unspoken, but Mikado smiled genuinely - _real_ - for this first time ever since he'd met him…and the smile was directed at _him, _Kida Masaomi - just for him. It was so honest, so soft and so _Mikado_ the expression had the blonde smiling back in return. He couldn't help the small laugh that escaped his mouth before smashing his lips to the other, movements fast and excited - so, so _happy_ - until slowing down so gently and chaste, his lips barely touched the other's bruised ones.

"Happy birthday, Mikado." he breathed in the silent warehouse. Still smiling, but now more confident, Mikado pushed Masaomi down onto the floor and straddled his waist, scarred hands gripping his shirt tightly, but not painfully tight. The older teen kissed him again and Masaomi grinned playfully before flipping them over.

* * *

><p>That night, Masaomi and Mikado made love for the first time. It was one of the best nights of their lives, though something palpable, heavy and tangible surrounded them as flesh met flesh, as heart beats became one, as little sighs, deep groans and pants filled the empty room. Warm. The night was warm.<p>

When Mikado fell asleep, pale body scratched and bruised from the fight to survive, but skin still managing to stay soft, when his breaths evened out and his skin cooled down from the sweat that covered both of their bodies, glistening in the little moonlight filtering through the window, Masaomi felt at peace. He smiled down at the teen lying on the floor next to him, naked body like his own covered just barely by the single blanket they've been sharing since a few weeks back.

Idly and gently, like a phantom's touch, Masaomi ran his fingers over Mikado's exposed flesh while marveling over what they did together that night. Honestly, the whole sex thing was difficult, new, painful. But he remembered that they both wanted it, needed it to the point that the it felt not only like a physical connection, but an emotional one as well. Sharing that intimate moment had cemented their relationship, which to him, was now stronger than any friendship in the world. It was deeper, much more than just friendship. Were they lovers? Maybe that was the right word…

Masaomi's brown eyes traced the scars on the exposed parts of Mikado's body, took note of his sweat dampened hair and calm face, which looked much younger than when he was awake. Masaomi observed the male before tracing his gaze to the watch on Mikado's left wrist. It was broken, that's for sure, and when he moved his head closer, he could see it was stopped on a certain time, frozen. There was no ticking, no sign of movement on the silver watch. The blonde frowned and narrowed his eyes in curiosity for just a moment.

Masaomi's frown then blossomed into a smile when he realized that Mikado wasn't having a nightmare. In fact, it looked like he was having a pleasant dream, with a content smile on his young face, body repositioned to be more comfortable and eyelids flickering. The blonde was happy there was no mysterious note to be spoken of from Mikado's occasional dream talking…

Wait a second.

A note.

Masaomi's eyes found themselves trained on Mikado's dark pants where something peculiar was sticking out. It appeared to be paper…a white paper to be exact. The blonde knew he should ignore the note, but something in his heart told him to look at it-whether that be responsibility to protect the raven sleeping next to him, or obligation to return his country back to the way it used to be.

Carefully and slowly as to not wake the other up, Masaomi removed himself from the warmth of the blanket. He shivered violently as the cold night air pierced his naked body, but he forced himself to reach the pants located a few feet away. While cautiously looking back at Mikado to make sure he was still asleep, the blonde stuck a hand into the pocket and retrieved the mysterious paper. It was worn and dirty, a little discolored in some areas. Little spots of blood marked the white here and there; tears and wrinkles covered the envelope as if it were a part of the design-like those faux aged invitational cards one receives for a graceful wedding or banquet.

Masaomi's heart pounded relentlessly in his ears. Was this allowed? What would happen if Mikado saw him betraying his trust? He ignored these thoughts, pushed them in the back of his head and opened the letter.

_Hello, Mikado-kun~ _

_It is nice to meet you, though that is one sided on my part. I apologize for not being able to show up in person. You must understand, after all, a lot of people wish me dead, do they not? I cannot blame them, really. I'd want myself dead if I were in those humans' positions. That would be interesting…_

_Oh yes, do you like the little gift I left for you, Mikado-kun, or should I say, __**Tanaka Taro-san**__? Aren't you happy your father was caught working with the mafia, selling out Japan to money and drugs and greed. Aren't you glad he finally got the punishment he deserved? It was through our delightful little chats that this information got to me, and I must say, you are one sharp kid. I commend you for that. If our situations were a bit different, perhaps we could have been friends, maybe even partners. _

_But most of all, this is the question that I bet you are dying to answer just about now._

_Aren't you glad something _unusual_ happened to you? Something exciting and strange, like your last name suggests, though I do often wonder how being the son of the Prime Minister could be boring. I'd expect that position to be quite entertaining, but that's just me. _

_Aren't you ecstatic that this result, this death was your choice, your very own desire, not the controlling ones of the public and your family? And at your own hands too! Though that was indirectly. I just helped you in that department, don't you think?~_

_Well, enough with the chatter. My plans have been set up beautifully, my King piece. The pawns have been set up into place, the Queen and Bishop are doing their job quite splendidly if I should say so myself. The playing field was set up on time too, but you, my friend. Were the last part to my puzzle! _

_Thank you very much Ryugamine Mikado-kun. It was a pleasure work with you. Perhaps we may conduct business again in the future._

_- Orihara Izaya._

Masaomi stared and stared at the paper in his hold before snapping out of the temporary daze, brown eyes dark and glaring, and jaw clench so tightly he could draw blood. With heavy breaths, he returned the letter back to the pants pocket and quickly tucked himself next to the sleeping dark haired teen who looked too innocent and relaxed next to him. His once warm and comfortable body now felt cold, flaccid and stiff.

Something felt different now. Something bad. He wished he knew about the letter instead of finding out this way…discovering that this boy was not who he expected. At all. He almost hit himself. All the signs were there, pointing directly at this shocking conclusion, but his feelings, his relationship with the boy blocked it all out. He shouldn't have been so trusting.

Remembering all the past times with Mikado, however…he didn't regret it. But his heart was being pulled in two directions.

Kida Masaomi felt lost. He felt betrayed.

He felt like he could..no- _should _have done better.

With his eyes pinned on the cracked ceiling, he rolled his body to face away from Mikado, distanced himself a few more inches from the other's body and fell into a fitful sleep while thinking,

'_Izaya. I will kill you.' _

The promise rang clear in his head, and followed him into his dreams - familiar red eyes, cold smirk, blood…

And then it hit him like a ton of bricks.

Mikado had _connections._

Masaomi had nightmares that night while Mikado, oblivious to his lover's inner turmoil, dreamed of an alternate past in which he wasn't the son of the Prime Minister, and that he and Masaomi were young, innocent children playing in the countryside of Saitama.

* * *

><p>When Mikado woke up, he felt really cold. Goosebumps appeared on his naked flesh, and almost instantly he started shivering. Immediately, he curled in on himself, teeth almost chattering; the thin blanket did no justice in the morning, especially a morning that he realized was a lonely one.<p>

Masaomi was gone.

For some reason, the dark-haired teenager felt his heart clench. It skipped a beat, first in worry and then in fear. Mikado hadn't realized he came to rely so much on the blonde until now, and so he frowned and smiled at the same time. That warm feeling in his chest that lulled him to sleep, that same feeling from the moment when he first kissed Masaomi was still present in his heart, however, but when he thought about the blonde's absence, it disappeared, flickering on and off like a cursed candle.

He felt like a wreck for some reason the universe wouldn't provide clues to.

Mikado's birthday was one of the best times of his life, though, and he decided to dwell instead on that. Last night was…he blushed red at the memories-last night was amazing, and it was all because of his best friend turned lover. All he knew was that a certain blonde teenager made him feel special, and for just being himself.

It was because of Kida Masaomi.

Kida Masaomi, this guy who came out of no where to protect him. Kida Masaomi with his fading blonde hair and large, warm brown eyes. Kida Masaomi with his exuberance and cheer, his bad jokes and musical laughter…he was someone very, very dear to him. The thought of him gone from his life terrified Mikado and with this thought he pinched his eyes shut. The idea of Masaomi willingly leaving him felt much worse than it should have, and it scared him into oblivion.

At that moment, the door opened, startling him into sitting position, snapping his eyes open and wide. Harsh light came through the open door, illuminating the once dark room. With a free hand he shielded his eyes while trying to make out the dark figure, the silhouette amongst the white, the light at the end of the tunnel.

"Masaomi?" he called out wearily, fear taking a hold of his lungs for a moment. The air wouldn't enter or leave them, making breathing a much harder task than it should. Mikado almost shivered; the cold felt colder than ever before.

The dark and blurred figure at the doorway didn't move or make a sound. It just stood there. Staring? Observing? Thinking? Possibly adjusting to the sudden darkness like how Mikado was trying to adjust to the sudden light? Was it Masaomi? Mikado prayed to dear _god_ that it was.

Suddenly, the door shut with an unpleasant bang and the dark-haired teen flinched in response. The person started moving, but the pace was uneven. Unfamiliar. Mikado was frozen, filled with fear and worry and shame. Being found in this position left him really vulnerable, and plus, what would his people say? _"Son of past Prime Minister found naked in abandoned room covered in unknown man's sperm." _That would surely make the headlines. His father would be rolling around in his grave, no doubt.

'Why is that still affecting him, though?' Mikado thought with clenched fists, and then realization took control of his mind, shoved the worry straight out of him.. What people? His people had already lost hope. If they weren't killing each other, they killed themselves. His people were…-they were…

Predictable.

'_How boring.' _

Were humans always made up this way, to follow the set path their peers designed for them. Were they subject to this imprisonment that he, himself, had felt before that fateful day? No. He knew that wasn't true. Just look at himself. Ryuugamine Mikado had set his own path, even though it was a path he would have rather avoided. But the fact that he got out of that cycle of human routine, made him feel both delighted and relieved, like there was hope. The two positive feelings didn't fight for sole dominance, they coexisted together in harmony. Mikado felt like he reached Nirvana; the flame of boringness literally became snuffed out. His father's death was the force and impact, the cool wind that made that happen.

So, when the dark, unknown figure stopped suddenly in front of him, Mikado looked straight up at the other's eyes, not minding his state of disarray, the dried semen on his skin, the scars and marks littered all over his body. Head tilted up, he smiled pleasantly and normally, like nothing was wrong, like his father was still alive somewhere out there and that Japan was the way it used to be: prospering, alive-.

"Hello, Orihara-san."

Red eyes smiled in mirth; a nicely shaped mouth tilted upwards to form a classic smirk; usual fur-trimmed parka, the metal glint in the man's pale hand, that same air of confidence and something terrifying that accompanied the dangerous informant without fail. It engulfed the room like cold fire.

"Good morning, Tanaka Taro-kun."

Izaya let out a small laugh as he looked amusedly down at his King piece's current state. He helped him up, brow arching at the evidence of the previous night's activities.

"Welcome back." Izaya said with a devilish grin, for now ignoring the stench of sex surrounding the shorter male. Now was the time for their _reunion, _and on the day right after Mikado's birthday, a day in the glorious season of change: Spring. _. ._

Mikado didn't know why, but he returned the expression - the grin - though it was infinitely smaller than the red-eyed man's in front of him. He could feel the sadness in his eyes, though he hoped the dangerous informant hadn't noticed.

All that he knew was that Masaomi's familiar voice (which he wanted to hear right now, _please_ right now…) kept lingering in the back of his head, his handsome, concerned face embedded forever in the retinas of his blue eyes.

"_Whatever you do, don't get involved with Orihara Izaya. He's bad news."_

.

.

.

"_I'm sorry, Kida-kun. But it's a little too late for that."_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Confusing? I had two different endings to this oneshot, but I chose the one that leaves opportunity for continuation, as you can see. 'Where's Masaomi?' you may ask. I left that up to the reader's interpretation. :D

Mikado and/or Izaya is saying that last itty bitty line, by the way. Mikado switching back to calling Masaomi, "Kida-kun." is Mikado letting go of the past year, the times they spent together, their relationship - whether that be to protect the blonde or not, again, it's up to the reader's interpretation.

...does that make sense? :o

And Izaya, you fucking cockblock. You like worming your way into my fics don't you. (And Aoba, too, but that's a whole other story.) Yes, Izaya had influence over the Organization. His plan was a definite success, as you can see. Yes, I know Mikado is not a King piece in canon...(or is he? o.o) For some reason, I remember him as a Shogi piece, but oh well. Creative license?

Reviews are always appreciated. ^^


	3. Blue

**Letter: **B  
><strong>Prompt: <strong>Blue (Blue Square, Bruises)  
><strong>Rating: <strong>T  
><strong>Pairing: <strong>hints of Mikida  
><strong>Characters: <strong>Mikado, Masaomi, Aoba  
><strong>Genre: <strong>Drama, General  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Masaomi returns to Ikebukuro only to witness a bruised Mikado involved with Blue Square.  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: _Novel Spoilers _as of volume 4 onwards, twisting canon, AU, Kuronuma Aoba.

**A/N: **I was given the prompt "Blue Square" by my own mini-generator list thingy, but it was hard for me to come up with something. I hope this isn't too bad. OH. I also made Mikado sound a lot nicer/better than how he really is in canon during this part of the Durarara storyline. His motives in canon are confusing...so...yeah. Mikado has gone off to the deep end already. Here, I try to keep him "good." Whatever that means. XD

* * *

><p>Mikado tried desperately to punch the delinquent in front of him, each of his labored breaths a step to his fumbling destination. Scarred, tremulous hands were curled tightly into tight fists, while sweat trickled uncomfortably between his clasped fingers. But no matter what, Mikado's attempts remained just that: mere, fruitless attempts with no hope, no chance of making contact.<p>

Mikado was fully aware that he was weak in the physical department, which was partly why he was doing this. Mikado was evolving, adapting to the ever-changing dynamics of being the leader of an online gang that conformed to the harsh realty of _real_ life. Unlike the internet, real live people were involved now, not some pictures on the screen that bore fake identities and fake personas. Dollars had become _real_. Dollars had moved on without him.

So, when Orihara Izaya called and told him to change, when Chikage spoke to him that one fateful night, Mikado made up his mind.

He was going to evolve with the Dollars.

Cleansing those he deemed unfit to share the name was his sole priority right now. He needed to protect the legacy that became such an essential part of him, an extension of his own self. And as for his best friends….

Masaomi and Anri would have to wait for him. There was no other way.

Mikado missed the blonde and the demure girl, he really did. He missed the normal times after school just licking ice-cream at the park or strolling peacefully through Ikebukuro, the little things that he took for granted. He missed that, all of that…Yes. He missed the little things, those seemingly insignificant events that made the world so much more inviting, so much more hospitable when spending it with loved ones.

Not like now. Definitely not like now.

But Mikado knew he made this decision on his own. Izaya and Chikage just helped him see the light a bit more clearly. He knew, deep down inside, that something like this was bound to happen eventually. And in fact, he _wanted_ it.

So, in joining with Blue Square, Mikado erected a shield around himself and countless times, he'd remind himself, that yes, this was all for them. Everything he was doing, the pain, the lies, the blood…it was all for them.

At that very thought, the guilt and shame lingering in the pit of his stomach felt so sharp it was like a physical blow to his chest. _Lying to myself? _Mikado thought with a frown as another punk pushed his way through the crowd. _And at a time like this?…_

He really was pathetic. He accepted the next few pain-filled seconds like it was his own, well-deserved punishment.

_How did everything come to this?_

It seemed like Mikado cursed himself for having such thoughts because a harsh kick to his already bruised chest knocked the breath right out of him. Eyes watering and stinging, he blearily observed Kuronuma Aoba from the sidelines who held an unreadable look on his young face, like he was disinterested in the scene in front of him despite being surrounded by men fighting men, boys fighting boys. He stood out amongst the crowd by doing absolutely nothing, just leaning against the brick wall with a bored look on his face like this was absolutely _normal_.

And in fact, it was.

This was their fifth outing already, targeting unworthy Dollars' members and providing retribution for acting outside Dollars' conduct.

Mikado almost laughed despite the pain. His ass was being handed to him by the very people he was supposed to punish, and besides, what happened to Dollars having no rules?

Aoba wore the signature bandana that screamed the specific color gang affiliation. The shark's smile…black, soulless eyes, blood red mouth, sharp white teeth….

He too, donned the infamous blue garment and Mikado felt more than anything else the stiffness of the damp cloth wrapped around his neck, choking him and constricting his airways. As a result, Mikado felt lightheaded. Peppered black dots appeared in his vision and he blinked rapidly to dispel them.

_W-what is this feeling? _

His heart was beating really fast, he could barely see two feet in front of him. All of that amounted to the inconceivable urge, the need to breathe. Breathe, dammit! Breathe!

Eyes squinting through the pain, Mikado finally noticed something from the corner of his eye. For some reason, Aoba was uncharacteristically frantic, his voice carrying strongly across the street and alerting his members. The feminine boy looked angry and confused, eyebrows furrowed and sharp eyes a blazing blue as he pointed and shouted in his direction.

_What…?_

Then everything turned black.

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

.

…was that Mikado on the ground?

Masaomi stared wide-eyed at the scene, body frozen as something tangible in the air wrapped around him like sharp, invisible tentacles. When he noticed the blue bandanas on the people surrounding his best friend, that same _something_ pulled him in the other direction, forced him away while his heart beckoned to its unheeded call.

What should I do, he asked himself, although the answer was painfully obvious.

_Stop running away. _

Heart slowing down to little pulses, Masaomi pulled back and leaned against the alley, head hitting the brick wall and eyes closing shut. He could do this. He could do this. He could do this. Even though he was alone, he could do this.

Snapping his eyes open, Masaomi stepped out from behind the wall, unfazed when some sickly looking teenager wearing a blue bandana looked up and immediately alerted another teenager. The alerted teenager looked really young, like a middle schooler, and his uncanny resemblance to Mikado made Masaomi do a quick double take.

Wait a second…

"Ahh, It's you." the feminine boy said with a peaceful smile. As he did so, the small group of teenagers dispersed, leaving just him, the kid and an unconscious Mikado in the middle of a graffiti-covered alley way.

"How do you know me?" Masaomi asked, perplexed, as his gaze remained transfixed on his best friend. Mikado there on the ground…it was the first time he's seen him that bloody and bruised. The image frightened him, and he wondered with the barest hint of guilt. _What the hell's been going on? Was this all my doing?_

Lungs currently incapable of functioning properly, Masaomi looked up. When the other didn't reply and instead just stared back at him with that damned smile, he glared at him.

_Is this kid connected to Izaya?_

It was possible. Not many people knew who the leader of Dollars was…unless he was missing something. And the fact that Masaomi didn't know anything - didn't know _enough_ - made him feel even more responsible for whatever had happened to Mikado in his absence. His heart was literally yelling at him that it was so.

The kid's smile twisted into a smirk. Just like that, and immediately, Masaomi's senses went on overdrive. This boy, who looked a lot like he could be Mikado's younger brother for crying out loud, was dangerous, that's for sure.

"Through Dollars, of course. They have one of the best information networks, after all."

_Dollars? What does Dollars have to do with this? _Masaomi's eyes pinned themselves on Mikado's peaceful face. Mikado?

Aoba hummed a bit and then looked to the side before checking his cell-phone. After a series of rhythmic clicks and a musical beep signifying the end of his message, the shorter teen walked slowly to Masaomi.

"I must go now, but do take care of him. Mikado-sempai is very precious to me, you see."

Masaomi stared, but doubt and anger suddenly battled their way for control. Anger won out, and so he harshly grabbed the smaller boy by the shoulder, and forced him to look him straight in the face. Masaomi's tight grip on the other's white sweater was trembling. His eyes were piercing and desperate.

"Who are you?" Masaomi asked, not with the snarling rage of one Heiwajima Shizuo and not with the amused curiosity of Orihara Izaya. He asked as Kida Masaomi, as the best friend of the boy lying unconscious in some shady area in nighttime Ikebukuro. Angry, concerned, hurt, _confused_-

"Who am I_? _Who are _we_?"

The boy suddenly stopped, tilted his head to the side inquisitively, and then smiled as if he came up with some brilliant idea. That smile then curled into a wide grin, face angelic as he got up close to Masaomi's face so that their noses were almost touching. And then, like he was talking to a young child, he stated calmly and slowly, smile luminous despite his dangerously dark and cool voice,

"We are Blue Square."

He looked straight into Masaomi's widening eyes with an unflinching gaze.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Masaomi-sempai."

The leader of Blue Square pushed away before glancing quickly at the incapacitated Mikado on the floor. With a curt nod in the blonde's direction, he disappeared from his sight, his face unreadable as his lackeys followed and threw a barrage of questions at the unfazed shorter teen. ("_Why did you do that?" "I don't get it!" "Oi, leader—") _

Masaomi didn't know how many surprises he could handle anymore. It was too much…_Blue Square?_

The people who hurt Saki?

He clenched his fists tight as he jogged quickly to the other boy.

What was Mikado doing with Blue Square?

Masaomi was puzzled. He felt betrayed, lost, like he just walked into some alternate universe with no clue as to how to return back to the _real_ world. The assumptions in his head were relentlessly pounding at his skull and the multitude of questions came to mind just as easy as the thoughts that fought back against them.

So when he finally made it to Mikado and saw the familiar green track jacket and the blood and dirt stains that accompanied it, when he saw the goggles on that bandaged head, the blue bandana around the pale neck, he just stood there, taking it all in without a sound.

He shouldn't have run away. He should have been there for Mikado.

Now, his best friend looked like a completely different person, and from what he's assuming, probably acted like a completely different person. What happened in the months he's been away?

Right.

He's been gone for _months_. And in Ikebukuro, time moved way too fast. A lot had happened in the first few months with him, Anri, Mikado, Celty and all the other people here. He should have known.

Masaomi pushed the doubts out his head, and he actually shook his head to dispel the dark thoughts, all the guilt that was drowning him in a sea of helplessness that he'd originally thought disappeared. Right now, his main concern was fixing up Mikado, who was in really bad shape from what he could see. Just imagining what his skin might look like underneath his clothing…

He tried to ignore all the shoe marks on the white portion of Mikado's track jacket, which did a might fine job of foretelling the numerous injuries his best friend had undergone at the hands of those bastards. But despite the cloud of angst eating away at him, Masaomi was so very relieved that Mikado was breathing. Now, he had to get him somewhere safe…

_- Ring Ring -_

Masaomi's phone vibrated strongly in his pocket, which quickly caught his attention. Curious, he removed it, eyes widening at the unfamiliar number.

It better not be Izaya.

Luckily, it was a text message. Masaomi didn't he think he had the energy to really talk to anyone at the moment.

He flipped the orange phone open, glanced again at Mikado who was still not moving, and then looked down at the screen in his hold.

_Hello, Kida-kun. Welcome back to Ikebukuro. We've missed you~_

Masaomi growled and snapped the phone shut. He didn't know the number, didn't recognize it, but he could tell who it was by just reading the message.

Orihara Izaya.

Masaomi pocketed his phone and moved to help Mikado up. Thankfully, the dark-haired teen was shorter and lighter than him. It made things so much easier when he pulled the body next to him, draped the motionless arm across his shoulder and began the long trek to a cheap hotel. A few unsteady steps forward and lamplight blinding him, Masaomi suddenly paused out on the main street.

Gaze fixed on the wretched blue bandana covering Mikado's neck, he made up his mind.

…

The blue bandana was left billowing in the wind.

* * *

><p>Masaomi shut the door to the cheap hotel with his foot, not bothering to lock the door until after depositing Mikado on the worn out western-style bed. After doing so, he looked out the blinds to see if anyone had followed him here. After all, it wasn't the first time something like that had happened. He knew very well from experience that affiliation with powerful gangs meant trouble, and that that trouble may lead to possible stalking or ambush.<p>

The blonde closed the blinds and staggered through the darkness before flicking on the intense light that made him flinch and recoil temporarily. Deciding that he should wash his hands and search for a first-aid kit, Masaomi made his way to cramped bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet and found a first aid-kit, which was currently in bad shape. Masaomi knew they were limited on supplies, but they'll have to manage until tomorrow at least. Tomorrow they'd have to move locations, if not for the safety of himself, then for the safety of Mikado.

With that thought, Masaomi grabbed the kit and placed it on the counter before closing the mirror door and staring back at his tired reflection. His gaze quickly turned unfocused and blurred since his mind escaped him for a moment, but he managed to turn on the faucet and wash his hands with the ice cold water and cheap soap, performing the motions like he was on autopilot. Robotically, he grabbed a towel and wiped his hands before making his way to Mikado.

Setting the kit on the bed, Masaomi performed a quick once over on the unconscious body, almost hissing as he realized how much pain Mikado might be in. From what he knew, Mikado wasn't used to this type of life. What he might have felt from the injuries, Mikado might feel two or three times as bad. It used to be a joke of theirs when they were little, but Mikado was never the type to get involved in fights. Masaomi would laugh about how if Mikado were to ever get into one, Mikado would definitely be on the receiving end.

"_I bet you'd die before hitting someone successfully, Mikado-chan!~"_

But now, it wasn't a joke anymore. There were no more jokes. Not like this.

With a sigh conveying all his burdens, Masaomi straightened up the body of his best friend on the bed and began unzipping the green and white track jacket Mikado seemed to be fond of. But when he realized Mikado still had those goggles on his head (strange, why would one even need goggles on the street?) he worked on removing those first, of course, while being mindful of the bleeding head injury on his temple.

Masaomi prayed to god that wasn't fatal.

He then removed Mikado's worn out shoes, which, hell, had blood splattered on them too. And that alone made him realize that this was probably not his first time getting involved with gang fights and Blue Square or whatever the hell Mikado's been doing.

He set the clothes gingerly by the bedside and then began the task of removing his best friend's shirt.

Right, like that would be easy. He was afraid of what he might see on his friend's skin that he always remembered to be pale and clean, unmarred except for a few dark hairs here and there. It bothered Masaomi to an extent that the possibility may be the complete opposite, because from what he knew and remembered, Mikado was definitely _not_ a fighter. Masaomi used to fill that role quite well when they were younger…

Okay, one, two, three. Masaomi braced himself and held his breath before gently pulling the white t-shirt upwards. His hand stilled half way. Bruises, all shapes and colors. A few cuts here and there, abrasions, but mostly bruises covered Mikado's once-flawless skin, creating an ugly map of yellows, purples, blacks and blues.

Not helping himself, Masaomi closed his eyes as the shirt in his hand trembled while pushing the cloth higher and higher until stopping on Mikado's clavicle. Masaomi dared opened his eyes, not surprised when the bruises continued upwards, but then he thought about Mikado's back, memory flashing to the shoe imprints decorating the white cloth from earlier, and he frowned.

Mikado must be in so much pain right now, and to Masaomi, it felt like _he_ should be the one with the bruises, not Mikado, who, although was the Dollars leader - _that_ he knew very well - should not have gotten involved with the brutes in Blue Square.

Strange. The Blue Square he knew was run by Izumi Ran and a bunch of dimwitted, violence-crazed fools. He didn't recall some young boy and his group of friends.

Exhaling through his nose, Masaomi knew he would've known about it, because after all, wasn't _he, _himself like that kid. Starting a gang with just a foolish teenager at the center, stringing along a group of his friends for the ride?

Masaomi stopped staring at the bruises, but he was at a loss as to what to do now. So, he undressed Mikado all the way to his boxers, and with the meager supplies left in the first-aid kit, cleaned up and bandaged what he could.

Finally done, Masaomi washed his hands and returned to the bedside, dragging the only chair in the room so it sat beside the bed and in front of the night stand. When he noticed Mikado sleeping soundly, he smiled wistfully, for Mikado looked normal at that very moment, like the Mikado he knew, the Mikado he remembered and sworn to protect. And so, with his hand holding on to Mikado's cold one, Masaomi slowly drifted to sleep.

* * *

><p>Mikado awoke to a searing headache and a parched dry throat.<p>

_Huh. How did I get here?_

And then all the memories flooded his head, causing him to sit up in bed with a gasp, breathing erratic and difficult. He then moaned pitifully as the pain all over his body burned without restraint, as his muscles twitched and resisted the sudden movement. What the hell?

Apparently, someone next to him felt the same thing because the next thing he knew, a blonde teenager was cursing as he struggled to get up. In response, Mikado tried to appear unfazed. After all, this person might want something from him, and depending on who this was, he wasn't sure how to react. His mask had slipped for a moment and he almost hit himself for being so weak. This was _not_ part of his plan.

"Mikado?" A blonde head peaked up from his bedside, worry literally leaking from that one uttered voice.

Mikado's eyes widened, and he sat up in bed, now wide awake and pushing into the head board as much as possible despite the pain. Ohgodohgodohgod. He was not expecting this. And with a confused frown, Mikado looked down and finally noticed he was almost naked. Flushing at the strange predicament, horror and confusion also decided to make their grand entrance aside the embarrassment and shame that he was caught in.

"M-Masaomi? What's going on?" He paused and his blue eyes retracted to their normal size. Hand tentatively touching his bandaged head, he asked, "What are you doing in Ikebukuro?"

Masaomi was now standing at his full height, and he moved a few feet away before answering quietly, body facing the window so Mikado could only see the back of his head, though he heard his words clearly.

"I got a message…-from Izaya. And then I couldn't help myself. Something told me to come back. I don't really know, it's actually fucking pathetic once I think about it: Follow your heart and it'll lead you to happiness and all that crap." Masaomi laughed a little bitterly, but then he released a heavy sigh and turned around with that usual smile on his face. "And then that's where I found you. Unconscious in some back alley surrounded by a bunch of people wearing blue bandanas."

Masaomi left some time for explanation, but Mikado gave none. He remained silent, and suddenly the Dollars' leader felt really vulnerable.

"What I'm trying to say is." Masaomi started before sitting heavily in the seat beside his bed. "I don't understand why, Mikado. Why? Who? When? How?"

Mikado got the courage to speak up, but he couldn't talk with how dry his throat was. After all, he had a blinding headache and everything hurt. Oh god, everything hurt. So much more than it should have. Mikado had to no choice to attribute that to the blonde sitting so close to him, whose close warmth was slowly sinking into his bones. Mikado sighed involuntarily.

Masaomi noticed his difficulty and got a bottle of water for him. Wordlessly, he passed the water to Mikado and waited.

"I…Blue Square is under my command."

Masaomi widened his eyes, eyebrows shooting up into his hairline before settling into a hard line. "What's that supposed to mean? I thought Blue Square beat you up or something! They were surrounding you and that freaky smiling kid seemed to know a lot about you too…"

Mikado perked up at the mention. "Aoba-kun?" So this was his doing…he'll have to have a nice talk with him later…

"So that's his name?"

Mikado gave a curt nod. "He's in the grade below us, and uhh…" Mikado gulped. "He's kind of working with me right now."

Masaomi settled back in his seat, scratched his dyed locks in confusion. "So wait…you had your own people beat you up or something?" He paused thoughtfully and then grinned before singing, "Man, I never took you for a masochist, Mikado~"

Masaomi's attempts at making the situation lighter made Mikado smile softly. It was so nostalgic and he couldn't help himself. He really missed his best friend.

Mikado shook his head and looked to the side before saying quietly, seriously. "We were attacking Dollars' members."

"What? I thought you were the leader of Dollars. Why are you attacking your own people? I thought the Dollars was good…" He blinked then focused his eyes intently on Mikado. "I thought it _is_ good."

"N-no! Dollars is good! Masaomi! Listen to me." Mikado sighed, regaining his voice as he met Masaomi's questioning gaze. "That's the reason why I'm doing this. Dollars is good. I'm trying to keep it that way! Being anonymous, being colorless is good and bad. There are criminals murdering, committing crimes under the name of Dollars and I feel completely responsible for it. This is my doing. It was my choice to keep Dollars up and running." He suddenly stopped.

"And Masaomi…I-I just need to do this. I hope you understand."

Masaomi released a heavy breath and then ignored the explanation like it wasn't even said. "Mikado. You should get your injuries fixed. I'm really worried about you. Just…just take care of yourself, okay?"

Mikado smiled before looking down at his tightly clasped fists in the blanket.

"Thank you, Masaomi."

Masaomi turned so he was facing Mikado squarely. He seemed conflicted about something, but then he smiled jovially, though there was something else deep within his amber gaze that Mikado couldn't quite pinpoint.

"Anything for you, Mikado."

The dark haired teen was confused at the weird phrasing but soon continued on with a sad glint to his eyes. "I'm sorry, but it's just not the right time. When all this is cleared up, you, me and Sonohara-san…let's get some ice cream like old times."

"Yeah. I'd love that." Masaomi said and he walked up to the bedridden boy, hesitated for a moment and then pulled him into a warm hug before whispering in his ear,

"I'll wait for you."

And then he was gone.

.

.

.

One week later, Kida Masaomi resurrected the Yellow Flag Orchestra.

* * *

><p>END.<p>

**A/N:** Have any ideas for C? I can't really come up with a proper list to work off of, so ideas are welcomed. :) Also, I'm aiming for fluff/romance/humor etc. next because I need a break from the drama/angst. Concrit is also encouraged. ^^


	4. Corny

**Letter: **C  
><strong>Prompt: <strong>Cheesy/Corny, expanded into Christmas, cold, confession  
><strong>Rating: <strong>K+  
><strong>CharactersPairing: **Masaomi/Mikado  
><strong>Genre: <strong>Friendship, humor, drama  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Mikado, Masaomi and corny pickup lines lead to an unlikely confession in the snow.  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: AU, boyxboy

**A/N:** All pick-up lines were found on the internet. =]

* * *

><p>"I think there's something wrong with my eyes because I can't take them off you."<p>

Mikado stops walking, blinks owlishly as confusion and _'Damn that's corny.'_ crashes wildly through his head. He laughs openly at the utter ridiculousness of the statement before punching the blonde next to him in the side, not minding the fact that they're both standing in the middle of a street in Ikebukuro, people giving them weird and condescending looks and them not even paying attention to those looks. Mikado's too shocked to care that they're blocking pedestrian traffic; too caught up in the outlandish comment he misses the strange expression on Masaomi's face.

Right now, Mikado guesses Masaomi's asking him for advice on pickup lines. He laughs even harder at that, if possible.

Seriously. Pickup lines. From him, Ryuugamine Mikado.

Masaomi must be on something because he'd _never_ ask him about hitting on girls. Hell, the blonde _enjoyed _teasing him about his love life - or lack thereof. Fortunately for him, Mikado does the same back, and in a way he feels is much more effective. Masaomi seems to deflect his harsh comments without a thought however, which admittedly, makes teasing the blonde rather enjoyable.

Oh well, Mikado thinks as he turns completely to the smiling blonde. Might as well be honest about, well-the cheesy pickup line, not to mention his lungs are starting to hurt from all the exertion. He forces himself to calm down.

"Where'd you get that one from, Kida-kun? The internet?" he asks with a quirk of his eyebrow, a smile. "-cause I don't think that will work on _anyone_."

Masaomi is aghast and utterly horrified by the accusation. Splaying his arms up wide in the air, the blonde asks,

"Why? You don't like it?" Cue childish pout and slumped shoulders.

Mikado shakes his head back and forth as if disappointed in a young child. He almost clicks his tongue. Almost.

"No." deadpans the brunet, who wears the 'Are you serious?' expression on his face like it always belonged there. Mikado's beginning to think that this is the case. After all, situations like this were always bound to happen when one was friends with the chipper blonde. It was almost like second nature to him.

At this thought, Mikado continues walking forward without a backward glance. A leisure wave of his hand is all Masaomi sees as his best friend's body shrinks with each passing second. With a smile and a chuckle, he runs up to the shorter teen and shoves his hands deep into his pockets.

Thinking, "Ahh, I'll continue this next time," Masaomi points put random sights of interest as they continue their stroll through the bustling city.

OOO

"Did it hurt?"

"Did what hurt?"

"When you fell from heaven?"

Masaomi is smiling brightly. Mikado remembers to close his mouth before someone other than himself thinks he looks like a gaping fish out of water. A starving, dying fish with twitching gills and bulging eyes…

He snaps his mouth shut and the sound of clattering teeth reverberates between the two teens at the local café.

"I know I'm amazing, hold the applause. Let me guess, that one's the best one, isn't it?"

Masaomi has the nerve too look _proud, _a large grin on his face and arms crossed over his chest as he leans back in his seat. Mikado can only stare blankly at the teen in front of him.

"Umm, no. Quite the opposite actually." explains Mikado as he pointedly ignores his friend by pinning his attention on his math homework. His head is bowed down so he can focus and work properly on the huge assignment that's due the following day. Pencil scratching and the press of calculator buttons can be heard clearly at the table occupied by the Raira students.

Masaomi feels this is boring and is about to reply to the statement to continue the conversation. To his utter delight, however, the blue-eyed brunet does it for him by saying quietly, pencil still flying across the paper,

"That one may actually be one of your worst, Kida-kun…"

Masaomi pouts openly at that before leaning over the small, silver round table, face looming so close to the brunet's, Mikado almost freaks out at the spontaneous action. Masaomi's grinning face is so close to Mikado's, Mikado has to lean as far back as possible without toppling over, a hard feat considering how small the table was and how light the chairs were.

Rather annoyed at his blonde friend's antics, Mikado asks with a frustrated knit to his brow,

"What now?"

"I'll make up my own lines then!" concludes the blonde, who grins so wide his face looks

like it'll crack any moment now.

Mikado eyes him strangely from the corner of his eye before sighing. He shoos the blonde out of his face and forces him back into his own seat.

"You go do that."

OOO

"I don't know which is prettier today: the water, the sky or your eyes."

The sushi making its way to his mouth stops suddenly in mid air, chopsticks held tightly in his hand. Blue eyes widen a fraction before narrowing in suspicion, although traces of a blush appear on the normally pale cheeks. He lowers the sushi and focuses on the blonde who blurted out yet another lame pick up line.

"Did you make that one up yourself, Masaomi?" asks Mikado incredulously, shuffling in his seat because now this feels really awkward and honestly, he is sort of amazed Masaomi isn't tired of this game yet.

Masoami nods happily, like a puppy rewarded for complying to its owner's demands. Mikado can clearly imagine a bushy tail wagging side to side behind his friend in what can only be decided as complete happiness and whatever the hell the blonde thinks is cute and adorable. Should he be surprised?

Not really.

"Yup! It's original, isn't it?" the blonde continues, face beaming and overflowing with giddiness and accomplishment.

Mikado averts his gaze and coughs, feeling the all-too-familiar sensation of second-hand embarrassment wash over him. After all, it came with the package of being friends with Kida Masaomi: skirt chaser extraordinaire and complete fail at all things suave and charming. Now, he had to deal with an apparently-brilliant Kida Masaomi, who's enjoying how apparently-awesome this new pick up line is.

"Yes, but not all girls have blue eyes you know."

The blonde smiles cheekily, tongue sticking out from between his lips. "I know."

Mikado rolls his eyes before plopping the sushi into his mouth. He chews thoughtfully before swallowing thickly.

"Hey, you wanna visit Sonohara-san later on today?" Mikado asks out of the blue.

Masaomi can only nod and smile.

OOO

"Your eyes are blue, like the ocean. And baby, I'm lost at sea."

This time, the words are whispered so close to his ear, Mikado shivers at the strange sensation tickling his skin. In response to the weird act, the class representative quickly pulls away from a grinning, bent-over Masaomi, and scoots inconspicuously closer to Anri who's blissfully unaware of what just occurred between the two males. Mikado shoots the blonde a weird look and says,

"You know, Kida-kun. Not all girls have blue eyes! Try for some variety or something…" Mikado blushes, realizing Anri heard all of that. In fact, the bespectacled girl looked _interested_. "- not that I know what I'm talking about, err…"

Masaomi laughs, straightens up to the two brunets eating their lunch delicately on the rooftop and spins dramatically on his heel. The blonde stands behind the two surprised class representatives, places a hand on each head and pats them fondly as if they were his own children.

"Now, now kids. Papa knows not all women have blue eyes. Look here at Anri-chan! She has the most beautiful brown eyes like warm silky chocolate…" He licks his lips, testing the waters. And as expected, Mikado appears disgusted but blushes nonetheless, and Anri shyly glances to the side, color adorning her own cheeks.

"No man can determine one's beauty based solely on eye color. After all, all women love the great Kida Masaomi!" Grinning and flashing the piece sign, Masaomi wags his eyebrows suggestively at Anri, who blushes a deeper red in embarrassment.

Suddenly, Mikado jumps up from the bench, plastic food wrapper falling dramatically onto the cement. He releases a breath he hadn't realized he's been holding and says coolly to his friend,

"Kida-kun. Your pick-up jokes are lame. Just stop it already. Plus, you're making Sonohara-san uncomfortable."

However, when both teens look over at said girl, Anri is laughing pleasantly, a hand covering her mouth demurely and her eyes shut tight in mirth.

"You two…are so funny." She manages between the laughter which sounds a lot like twinkling bells; quiet yet pleasant.

Masaomi and Mikado eye each other hesitantly, but then they break out into laughter themselves, chests heaving at the stupidity they were engaged in.

OOO

"Ouch! My tooth hurts!" exclaims a now wincing Masaomi who totally thinks he's awesome and brilliant and other flattering adjectives. Mikado looks up, startled from his essay and tumbles his way over to the blonde while sporting a frown. "Why?" he asks, curious and ready to help him if he so needed it.

Masaomi winces again for dramatic effect then straightens up in his seat in front of his own homework. Brightly, he says, "Because you're sooo sweet, Mikado!~"

Mikado has gotten used to the routine by now, and is actually starting to play along with the blonde as long as it shut him up. But this time, they're studying for exams, and there's no time for fooling around. If he scored poorly on his exams, his parents will have a fit, which means he'll have to move back to Saitama…

"What's gotten into you, Masaomi? There's no time for games. As you can see, I'm trying to study." he tries to explain calmly, blue eyes growing intense as he moves to return to his own seat situated in front of some neatly stacked piles of books and papers.

Masaomi nods complacently, shuts his eyes as he leans back. Mikado has to stop at the motion; he's actually paying attention to the blonde because Masaomi's acting strange - he's unusually obedient. He ponders over this strange occurrence as he watches the other cross his arms behind his head and release a heavy sigh.

"I know. Just thought I'd try to break up the tension in here a bit. Makes it hard to concentrate, y'know?" Masaomi opens an eye and peers straight at him. Mikado is slightly taken aback but find himself completely understanding what the other is trying to say.

Releasing his own sigh and only now realizing how tense his shoulders are, how stiff his neck feels, Mikado gives the blonde a small smile. "Yeah, I guess you're right." he concedes gratefully. He didn't notice how much studying was taking a toll on him and so he sends a silent thank you to Masaomi. His best friend always seemed to know when something was wrong, even when they were younger.

Masaomi just straightens up and smiles back at Mikado, stretching like a cat, bones cracking with the movement as he nods.

They study diligently for hours after their break, and when exams are over, Mikado places in the top 5 of his class.

OOO

Somehow, they're at a Christmas party. Somehow, alcohol was snuck in. Somehow, everyone around them was drunk and laughing so loud it was starting to grate painfully on Mikado's nerves. The brunet wants to leave this place really, really badly. He considers just dumping the blonde here and leaving, but he knows he can't do that, although the thought of doing so was becoming more and more attractive…

Masaomi is slouched over, leaning heavily against him on the couch. His body is really heavy - (must be the muscles) - and really, really warm, so warm its beginning to feel uncomfortable. Masaomi's drooling onto his shoulder too and Mikado knows he can push the other off him but decides not to.

He sighs, and after seeing another round of booze make its way to the giggling group of teens, he decides that they should leave. Now.

"Masaomi," he whispers, gently pushing the blonde off him. "We need to go now. It's getting late."

Masaomi moans but gets up nonetheless, swaying slightly and holding onto Mikado's arm for purchase. He blinks, trying to focus his blurry vision and spots Mikado through the hazy cloud. "Oh. Mikado, fancy seeing you here."

Mikado responds by dragging him out the house and into the freezing nighttime air, which is snowy, calm and manages to clear his mind. He shivers and squints at the colorful lights before glancing down at Mikado who's checking his phone, plastic clicks and bright light pronounced during the quiet, peaceful walk. Surprisingly, it's not him who starts the conversation, but the other.

"I didn't think you'd be the type to get drunk so easily, Masaomi." the brunet states with no real tone to emphasize his opinion or feelings on the matter. It's very neutral, factual sounding like he's a teacher grading papers and asking about the weather to that one lucky student who happened to come to school early. For some reason, this lack of emotion affects Masaomi more than it should have, and the guilt and all the emotions - the _frustrations_ - feel more powerful than ever before because of that remark.

"I'm not drunk." is what he says, and he's proud that he manages to say it with a straight face. There's no whining or, attitude in the statement, which forces Mikado to look up from his phone and quickly return it to his pocket. He stops walking, breath puffing out in white, ghostly shapes amongst the darkness. Powdery white now falls onto his lashes and Masaomi wants to get closer so he can count them.

"Oh, really?" Mikado says, not believing it one bit but smiling because he thinks Masaomi is a good actor and this is all just a game to him. It's always just been a game, for almost a year now because Masaomi is all about jokes, games, adventure and warmth. Mikado likes that about the blonde. Admittedly, he likes this game, although he'd never admit it out loud.

"Yeah."

Mikado stares at him penetratingly for a few seconds, weighing his options. Masaomi wonders why he's so concerned anyways and keeps on wondering, even as Mikado sighs and continues walking forward, gloved hands fussing with the purple earmuffs that just won't stay still on his head. Masaomi smiles fondly at the action.

Strangely, his mouth decides to blurt out a line before his mind can catch up to it: "I'm

not drunk. I'm just intoxicated by you."

Mikado halts in his tracks and turns around, blinking owlishly like the first day he started using these pickup lines.

"What did you say?" Mikado asks, dumbstruck as he shuffles his way to Masaomi and stands directly in front of him. Mikado is speechless and can't help staring at his best friend's completely serious face. "I think your jokes are getting a little bit too much now, Masaomi…" he trails off, chuckling awkwardly and fiddling with the red scarf he's sporting.

Masaomi looks him straight in the eye. "I'm not joking."

"W-what?" he responds, stepping back a bit.

Masaomi laughs and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "Umm…yeah."

"Oh."

They lapse into an awkward silence.

"I don't really know how to say this." Masaomi starts as he pulls on Mikado to continue their walk, their feet crunching against the growing layers of snow. He doesn't know what he should be thinking as Mikado's gaze lingers on the hand gripping his arm. He doesn't want to over think this. All of this.

They're now standing near Mikado's apartment complex, close to the fence and its pretty dark out. Nearby inhabitants are already turning on their lights, heaters on full blast. Masaomi knows he's not drunk, and it seems Mikado doesn't realize that he's serious. He's scared, admittedly, but he has to do this. Masaomi gathers his courage, flexes his gloved fingers, shakes his beanie covered head and looks Mikado straight in the eye, who looks…

…the most confused and lost he's ever seen him. No scowl. No rolling eyes. No smirk. No smile.

Just…wide blue eyes.

'_Shit! I probably scared him,' _Masaomi berates himself mentally. He considers giving up, playing it all off as one of his jokes, but a hand on his arm catches his attention.

"Masaomi…" Mikado trails off, looks to the side before refocusing on him. "Is there…something you need to ask me?"

Masaomi widens his eyes, swallows the spit gathere in the back of his throat from all the nervous tension, and shuffles awkwardly before giving a firm nod.

"Mikado, can I say something?"

Mikado smiles slightly. "You're already doing that, but yeah. What is it, Masaomi?"

Masaomi can see Mikado breathing slowly, eyes blinking frequently due to all the snow and something else in his eyes. He decides to not give it so much thought and instead opts to say the first thing that comes to mind,

"Umm, I think I may be in love with you...?"

Mikado immediately looks down at the snow gathering on the ground. It's not the reaction the blonde is expecting, and he feels pretty dumb for confessing now. Mikado totally has the hots for Anri. His best friend would never consider the thought of it…

But Masaomi also notices how absolutely _red_ Mikado's cheeks are, how much he's shifting and trying to appear normal. Mikado's not leaving either him, just standing there like he's engaged in some internal debate of some sort. Hopefully this is a good sign.

Yeah. Hopefully.

Suddenly, Mikado's eyes shoot up and meet his. There's a sparkle there and something else. He doesn't say anything, but Mikado seems to know he won't tell unless he himself starts the talking.

"All this time…" he trails off with a strange look on his face, realization meeting his eyes with each spoken word, "…-you were using those horrible pick-up lines on me?"

Masaomi rubs the back of his head nervously and averts his gaze. "Err…yeah. Sorry about that."

Mikado does something unexpected. He laughs genuinely and is smiling so wide he looks younger than he already looks (which is already quite young to be honest.) Masaomi can't help the smile that breaks out on his own face at the expression.

"Was that a confession, earlier Masaomi?"

"What else could it be?"

"Oh…I don't know. But umm…" Mikado steps closer but not too close, puffs of white air brushing against Masaomi's face so he can see the other more clearly. "I guess we could give it a shot…?"

The questioning tilt in that single statement doesn't deter Masaomi from breaking out into a large grin. He wants to wrap his arms around Masaomi because now he finally gets it, after all this time. Now his work paid off (in a roundabout way) and he really, really wants to celebrate. But he also doesn't know if Mikado would want that, so he settles with smiles and almost gives in to the temptation to hug him when Mikado closes his warm fingers around his own cold ones and a hesitant smile is directed at him.

Masaomi closes his eyes contentedly, not minding the cold seeping into his bones because now he can officially say,

'He finally gets it.'


	5. Distance

**Letter:** D  
><strong>Prompt:<strong> Distance  
><strong>Rating<strong>: K  
><strong>CharactersPairing**: Masaomi and Mikado  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Friendship, fluff  
><strong>Summary<strong>: Masaomi returns home from studying abroad in America. Mikado welcomes him back, noticing the changes in his best friend. But despite everything, he quickly realizes that distance can also bring them closer together.

**Warnings**: AU, bromance, drabble

**A/N: **Wrote this as a misfire fill for the kink meme some days back… so I guess I de-anon with this. *grins*

**Disclaimer** (since all this internet censorship is troubling me): I do **not** own Durarara! And I do not own these characters. At all. I'm simply borrowing them.

* * *

><p>Mikado missed Masaomi, there was no doubt about that. So after years being separated from his best friend, seeing the jovial blonde waving to him with his suitcase in hand and bright silver earring (now earrings?), the stylish clothes he bought while studying in America, that dumb goofy grin that used to grate on his nerves, Mikado almost couldn't believe this was all real.<p>

It was almost picturesque. Almost. Kinda like those cheesy romantic movies when the young couple reunites after being separated, when e-mails and phone calls were just not enough because nothing could compare to seeing, feeling the real thing. Just knowing that your best friend was alive and well in the flesh.

Before he knew it, Mikado was wrapped tightly in the blonde's arms. Strange, Mikado thought as he wrapped his own arms around Masaomi. Usually, it's the one waiting for the other to return who would run into his or her arms. He let it slide. The blue eyed university student just smiled and hummed, basking in the presence of his best friend.

"Oi. Mikado. You've gotten taller!" said Masaomi, who removed himself from the embrace. Mikado blushed and batted the hand in his hair away.

"Well, you're Japanese accent is way off now, Masaomi. Has America really stripped you of your culture?" He said it jokingly, arms crossed in front of him, blue eyes slightly narrowed.

Surprisingly, Masaomi didn't continue the chatter, but his large grin grew soft instead, content. His black luggage bag laid ignored at his feet, and Mikado looked back up into Masaomi's face, softened his earlier expression and smiled back.

Before Masaomi could do anything else, Mikado yanked on his arm and pulled him outside the airport so they could catch a shuttle and perhaps a taxi back to Masaomi's studio appartment. During the whole ride, Mikado couldn't take his eyes off Masaomi, noticed the little changes, like how he was tanner than he remembered, noticed that content, relaxed air that blanketed him, the blonde's healthy body. They were pleasant changes, Mikado realized, and when Masaomi's gaze caught his, Mikado bit his lip and looked elsewhere. Masaomi's chuckle earned a roll of his eyes, prompting even more snickers and laughter, and Mikado had to crack a blue eye open at the sound to capture the image of his best friend's carefree attitude and expression.

Once they made it to Masaomi's apartment, Mikado at the lead, the blue eyed male turned on the light before assisting Masaomi in dragging in his luggage.

And after that was all done, the door closed and secure, the window open and casting a sunset glow upon the clean appartment, the two males just stood there, finally feeling the longing catch up to them even though they were now so close. It was all so surreal...so strange. But also pleasant and desired. After all, they both realized that distance makes the heart grow fonder. They've felt that well enough.

It was Mikado that walked up to Masaomi and said quietly, like revealing a secret wish.

"I missed you."

Masaomi smiled and playfully poked Mikado in the cheek - (to which Mikado rubbed at and glared slightly) - before pausing, saying, "I missed you too."

Mikado felt like breaking the mood, make things more casual and a bit more normal for the both of them.

"Hmm? What'd you miss here in Ikebukuro, Masaomi-kun?"

Mikado couldn't help the playful tone. It just felt right, this little banter.

But then Masaomi suddenly became serious, Mikado could tell in his eyes and set of his mouth and pulled him into another hug. Mikado stiffened, but then relaxed and hugged the taller blonde back slowly. "Masaomi?" he asked, confused and blushing.

"This. So much." And then Masaomi pulled him even closer so their bodies were so close Mikado could feel the other's strong heartbeat through the thin shirt. "I missed this."

Mikado sighed contently, closed his eyes, and whispered back against Masaomi's ear,

"Me too."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **The misfire comment was, "This. So much." That was it. I must have been hormonal or sentimental or something when I saw that. The urge to write took over me.

E is next. Not sure what to write for that…I was thinking "Edo," or something. :o Any ideas? :)


End file.
